


Untitled Pied Piper AU

by garden_hoe21



Category: Der Rattenfänger von Hameln | The Pied Piper of Hamelin (Fairy Tale), Electronic Dance Music RPF, Skrillex (Musician)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Blood, Fantasy, Magic, Other, Pied Piper - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garden_hoe21/pseuds/garden_hoe21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your heart pounds as you tap again on the door, lightly this time.</p><p>"H-hello?" The small pouch and bottle tremble in your sweaty fists.</p><p>"Mr Sonny?"</p><p>He doesn't answer.</p><p>You take a step inside, hairs standing on end. You didn't come all this way, do what you had to do to get these tributes, just to turn back now. They need you. They are counting on you. <span>You take a deep breath and try to keep calm.</span></p><p>"Mr Sonny, I don't know if you're here. I - I don't know if you're real." No response. "My name is $name. I've come from $village, a small village nearby." No answer. You dare to take a step further into the tiny abode. It smells like earth, like smoke, like man. Tiny bottles and boxes surround the small lair. Some have printing on them, some have images, some appear to have been written on in a child's scrawled hand.</p><p>"My village has... has problems. Problems that you... well, if you exist, you may be able to help us with." You swallow down the lump in your throat. "There's something..." You realize you're squeezing the tiny bottle so hard it may shatter, and make a conscious effort to relax. "There's something out there. They say you might..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Super rough draft inspired by [these](http://madcrazyworld.tumblr.com/post/89589621186/hello) photos of Sonny and all of his live performance images. When I say rough I mean like, people and places don't even have names? It's in second person, so do not read if that is a trigger. Knowing me I will find a way to infuse this with dirty, kinky, filthy-ass sex. I don't have a pairing in mind. I don't even know if the story will continue, or whether the character will be an OC or an existing character or person.

Your heart pounds as you tap again on the door, lightly this time.

"H-hello?" The small pouch and bottle tremble in your sweaty fists.

"Mr Sonny?"

He doesn't answer.

You take a step inside, hairs standing on end. You didn't come all this way, do what you had to do to get these tributes, just to turn back now. They need you. They are counting on you. You take a deep breath and try to keep calm.

"Mr Sonny, I don't know if you're here. I - I don't know if you're real." No response. "My name is $name. I've come from $village, a small village nearby." No answer. You dare to take a step further into the tiny abode. It smells like earth, like smoke, like man. Tiny bottles and boxes surround the small lair. Some have printing on them, some have images, some appear to have been written on in a child's scrawled hand.

"My village has... has problems. Problems that you... well, if you exist, you may be able to help us with." You swallow down the lump in your throat. "There's something..." You realize you're squeezing the tiny bottle so hard it may shatter, and make a conscious effort to relax. "There's something out there. They say you might..."

You sigh, placing the pouch and bottle on the ground in front of you.

"I'm here because I didn't know where else to go. Nobody knows I'm here but I need your help. It. It took my sister..." At the thought of her upended bed, trashed bedroom, the bloody handprints and... _other_ prints, you can't stop the tears from falling.

Suddenly you hear a rustling. It's not even a frightening sound but you jump right out of your skin, screaming without thinking about it. Your head whirls around in the direction of the sound and you see it, like out of a story. The black head, rising slowly up from under the table.

"Hey."

Hey. You risked your life coming here to face god-only-knows what, and it's a man. A small man. A small man who greets you with a "hey." But there's love in his small voice, love you've never heard from a stranger before.

He looks over at you, pushes his huge-rimmed glasses up over his face. How can a man who can afford a luxury such as eyeglasses be squatting here?

He steps forward, and even though he's small, even though his voice is unearthly sweet, you can't help but jump back a little.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to hear about your sister. And your village." You freeze as he approaches you - his body looks strong up close, stronger than it did originally - and he lunges forward, throwing his arms around you. "I'm so, so sorry. That's shitty."

He rubs your back soothingly and you start bawling like a little child as he leads you to sit on one of his many crates. It's humiliating. You look so fucking undignified when you cry. His eyes are full of concern, and, fucking  _pity_ , which, by the way, fuck him for pitying you, you didn't fucking come here for his goddamn pity.

Quickly, you wipe the tears from your cheeks and try to regain your composure. "Look. I've come to make an exchange." His eyebrows raise above the rims of his eyeglasses.

"Hoyeah?" 

You gesture toward pouch and bottle you brought.

"Medicines. In exchange for your... abilities."

"I have medicines." He gestures vaguely to the contents of the entire room. A drop of... something falls from a hole in the ceiling. His hand is still on your back as he looks at you and stares into your eyes. You stare back defiantly.

You retrieve the small pouch, pull it open and show him the small dried flower buds. He sniffs at it and his mouth drops open. "Oh my God! Cannabis!?" You say nothing. "That hasn't been seen since-" he shakes his head and shrugs. "Is it really, though?"

"I'm not a liar," you fire back, but the way he's buried his face in the bag and inhaled, you're not sure he even heard you. You're not sure he even needed to. If he is what they say he is, he knows.

"Yo, thank you man! Where did -"

"That's for me to know." 

His face falls a little. "Oh."

You can't help but feel a tiny bit bad about it, so you blurt out "The bottle is rum." His mouth drops open and for the first time you realize this guy's sorta cute.

"So will... you..." He holds up one fat finger and upends the entire bottle into his face. It's not much but it was certainly not easy to obtain.

He licks the last drops of fluid from the tip of the bottle, smiling.

"I'll help you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He adjusts some knobs and tries again. A quiet sound, almost like a roar, emits from the speaker. Then a louder one. The deep sound makes the ground rumble and you shiver.
> 
> Sonny turns to you. "That one." It's not a question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt inspired to write a little more of this because of [this](http://xslappythedummy.tumblr.com/post/90865603181) photograph. One of the men behind him is A$AP Rocky. I admit I don't know who the other one is. Still have no idea where this is going, though.

His brow knits together in concentration as he punches a few more keys. A babyish giggling sound rings out and you shake your head. His body language is calm: clearly he trusts his two friends to protect him from whatever might be on the other side.

He adjusts some knobs and tries again. A quiet sound, almost like a roar, emits from the speaker. Then a louder one. The deep sound makes the ground rumble and you shiver.

Sonny turns to you. ”That one.” It’s not a question.

You nod, embarrassed by your own cowardice, but you clear your throat and manage to squeak out, “That one. It sounded just like that when it,” you swallow down the lump in your throat, “when it took her.”

His tall, beautiful friend takes a step closer to you, seemingly subconsciously. He stands proudly to his full height and squares his jaw.

"That kinda sound like a-"

Sonny nods. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

"A what!?" you shout, not expecting your own voice to come out so loudly. "What does it sound like?"

Sonny turns to you with a gentle mirth in his eyes and takes your shaking hands in his.

"It sounds like something I can hunt."


End file.
